


C'est un joli nom, camarade

by OrpheusCrowned



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Café Musain, F/F, Happy, M/M, Multi, Paris (City), R slowly learns how to not be a dick, he's getting there, out of custody, post protest, sad stuff implied but mostly happy, soft, they're all just a bunch of anarcocommunists probably, you can consider this a gilets jaunes setting if you like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-03 21:14:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20273662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrpheusCrowned/pseuds/OrpheusCrowned
Summary: When Courfeyrac is released after 48 freaking hours in custody, les Amis celebrate at the Musain, and Bahorel as something important to say. Grantaire is humiliated and happy. Courfeyrac is safe and happy. Enjolras is amused and happy. Everyone is happy. (you can still see the sad underneath, but they're getting better, slowly. they'll get there)





	C'est un joli nom, camarade

That night they’re celebrating Courfeyrac getting out of custody. It’s Saturday and the Musain is crowded, but their table is the loudest. Éponine is roaring with laughter from something Joly said, Musichetta smiles gracefully and they hold hands under the table. Bahorel empties pint after pint even though he doesn’t have enough money on him to pay for them. He’s closely followed by Grantaire, who’s slowing down for the same reason (but he came with a flask of his own, which he’ll use later). Grantaire, for some reason, seems upset.  
Courfeyrac, on the contrary, is glowing. A bit too much, probably, but he did just get out of custody after 48 freaking hours. And what Combeferre just whispered to him makes him beam.  
\- Really, R? he says. You were there?  
Grantaire has this kind of face he makes when there’s something he can’t express with his usual verbal diarrhoea, and that only make Courfeyrac beam even more. Now Grantaire seems all the way annoyed.  
\- Is that really so surprising? I do come to your- rallies, protests, things sometimes, I wasn’t going to bail on this one.  
\- You weren’t threatened? You actually came? On your own? Without Enjolras making those eyes at you?  
\- On my own. Without Enjolras threatening me. He was pissed though. I thought he was going to burn down that thing single-handedly. He looked positively-  
\- Grantaire, can you please stop?  
Enjolras, from the other end of the table. Grantaire stops. He’s learning when to, slowly; but he’s learning. He breathes in, silently, and then he laughs.  
\- So yeah, on my own.  
\- I’m glad you did, Courfeyrac says, and he touches his arm briefly. Grantaire smiles.  
\- And there’s more!  
Bahorel raises his glass, solemn all of a sudden. They frown, unsure what he’s going to say. Bahorel has been with them the whole afternoon, and the night before, for both gatherings in front of the police station until Courfeyrac was released. What could he possibly add they wouldn’t know? Even Enjolras looks their way, interrupting the conversation he’s having with Jehan. A little bit of beer falls on the table from the pint Bahorel is holding. Joly frowns.  
\- Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here today to say grace. For Grantaire, who, today, I’m very pleased to announce, made use of the word “comrade” publicly and unironically, and not in a slogan. Thank you. Thank you so much.  
A clamour follows.  
\- You?  
\- Grantaire!  
\- Who could have known?  
\- I’m shocked.  
\- Fuck you!  
That last bit is Grantaire, whose face is suddenly very red.  
\- I’ve been caught in a moment. Don’t expect to hear that word from me again!  
\- Right. Right. Anyway, Courfeyrac hushes him, pray tell, Bahorel, what exactly was the context and which exactly were the words?  
Bahorel thinks, taking his time to captivate the audience.  
\- So there was this guy who was like, so who’s in there? And this girl was like, I don’t know, some queer guy, and then R – I think he knew them? – just said, with absolute splendour, “He’s a comrade.” And then he chanted with us Free our comrade. I was moved, guys. Moved to tears.  
\- Or maybe it was the tear gas.  
\- Irrelevant. Moved, I’m telling you.  
Courfeyrac leans back into his chair, a look of profound satisfaction on his face.  
\- That’s me, I’m the comrade. Hi, everyone, I’m R’s comrade.  
\- You can’t be the only comrade of R’s, Bossuet points out. If you’re his comrade, we’re all his comrades. That’s the rule.  
Grantaire rolls his eyes and pour whatever’s left in the flask in his drink.  
\- I’ve had it with you, seriously. Why would I ever-  
\- Oh, and here I was getting emotional.  
Grantaire’s hand stops and he looks up at the other end of the table. Enjolras, his cheek resting on his palm, is looking at him. For a minute, he’s at loss with words. Bahorel chooses this moment to take the flask and drink, giving him the perfect excuse to look away and release the tension in his chest by protesting a bit too loudly. When he manages to take it back and he’s not the centre of attention again, his eyes turn to Enjolras – just a second, and maybe another one. Just enough for Enjolras to catch him, and, a brief instant, smile at him.

**Author's Note:**

> it's been so long i forgot how to tag (and i hope my english isnt a complete disaster). also, acab as usual


End file.
